


All-nighter

by torestoreamends



Category: Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: Exams, Fluff, Hogwarts Seventh Year, M/M, Post-Harry Potter and the Cursed Child
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-10
Updated: 2016-12-10
Packaged: 2018-09-07 17:40:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8809987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/torestoreamends/pseuds/torestoreamends
Summary: Albus and Scorpius are so busy with Quidditch and Prefect Duty and goodness knows what else, that they barely have time to revise for their N.E.W.T.s. There’s nothing else for it. They’re going to have to pull an all-nighter.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for PlatinaSi. I hope your last few exams go well! And for anyone else out there studying for exams at the moment, good luck. You’ll all be amazing. 
> 
> Beta’d by Abradystrix

_23:38_

The best table in the Slytherin Common Room, the one right by the fire, is covered in a mess of books and parchment and boxes of sweets. Albus, holding an enormous, steaming mug in his hands, surveys the scene.

"Scorpius, if you eat all those sweets you're going to crash."

Scorpius tosses a bag of Sugar Mice onto his heap, causing a minor avalanche as several packets and boxes are knocked from their precarious positions and cascade all across the table. He doesn’t seem too concerned, just rescues a packet of Jelly Slugs that’s about to fall onto the floor and turns to Albus. “Maybe, but…” He flicks the side of Albus’s mug, making a dull chinking sound against the china. “If you drink all that coffee you’re going to crash. We're both going to die tonight, Albus. I might as well enjoy myself doing it. Here, stop being all superior and have a Jelly Slug."

He shakes the bag at Albus, who eyes it warily. “This is a bad idea.”

“Is it?” Scorpius asks with a grin. “I think it’s brilliant. Nothing can possibly go wrong.”

“Yes,” Albus says, fishing out a Jelly Slug and wiggling it in Scorpius’s direction. “It can.”

“You were the one who said we needed to do this,” Scorpius says.

For a moment Albus looks from Scorpius to the Jelly Slug and back again, then he sighs, shoulders slumping in defeat. He swallows the Jelly Slug in one go and chases it down with a long sip of coffee. “Fine. Let’s do this.”

*

_00:47_

"My brain. Won't. Think." Albus groans, repeatedly hitting his head on the desk.

Scorpius looks alarmed and casts a quick Cushioning Charm before he can do it again. "Of course it won't if you're going to abuse it like that. Take care of your brain, Albus. It's a very valuable asset." He shuffles across and inspects the red mark on Albus's forehead, then gives it a gentle kiss.

Albus pulls a face. "It's a sieve. I put stuff in and it just all comes pouring back out again. How am I supposed to pass any exams if the information just won't stay put?"

"If only your brain were a _Pen_ -sieve," Scorpius says with a grin. "Then you'd be able to _remember_ everything you needed to..." he trails off at Albus's withering look. “No? Okay." Still smiling at his own joke, he ducks his head, tucks a bit of hair out of his eyes, and goes back to his work.

*

_01:22_

“The five… Principal Exceptions… to Gamp’s… Law… of Elemental Transfiguration… are…” Scorpius looks up at his book. “Number one… Food… because… food is-”

“Scorpius,” Albus says, lifting his head from where he’d been bent over his Herbology notes. “Do you think you could read in your head? Maybe? It’s just a little bit distracting.”

“Oh!” Scorpius says, with a slightly sheepish smile. “Sorry about that.” He ducks back down behind his pile of books and sweets, and continues reading, chewing on his bottom lip, apparently in an attempt to keep his mouth shut. It doesn’t work for very long.

“So if Gamp’s Law is correct,” he mutters to himself, “and the major elements are finite, then that must mean that-”

Albus puts his quill down on the table with considerably more force than is strictly necessary. “ _Scorpius_.”

“Whoops,” Scorpius says, with a fluttery, apologetic little laugh.

“I’m trying to think,” Albus says, running a hand through his hair and making it stick up all over the place. “And as much as I appreciate your insights into Gamp’s Law, I revised that yesterday, and listening to you pick holes in it is making me panic.”

“Okay. But it doesn’t make sense that-”

Albus reaches across and puts a finger to his lips. “Shush.”

Scorpius remains obligingly quiet.

*

_02:41_

Albus gets to his feet and stretches. Something in his back clicks, and Scorpius winces.

“That didn’t sound good.”

“It doesn’t feel good,” Albus says with a sigh. “My neck aches, my head hurts, my hand feels stiff from all this writing. These exams are destroying me.”

Scorpius puts his quill down and beckons Albus over. “Come here.”Albus shuffles round the table to him, and Scorpius gestures toward the floor. “Down.”

Albus kneels down and looks up into Scorpius’s eyes, which are shining almost gold in the firelight. “Why am I doing this?”

“Turn round,” Scorpius says, wiggling one of his fingers in a circle, and Albus obliges. He ends up sitting cross-legged on the floor, with his back against Scorpius’s legs.

“I still don’t- _Oh._ ” He closes his eyes and melts as Scorpius starts rubbing his shoulders. He feels all the tension start to dissipate, and it hurts, it makes him want to squirm, but it’s wonderful. “I love you,” he groans.

“I know,” Scorpius replies, and Albus can practically hear the self-satisfied smirk in his voice as he sets to work on one particularly tight knot in Albus’s back.

*

_03:23_

Albus glares at the clock on the wall above the fireplace. It’s a round, dark blue disk, studded with golden stars which wheel in time with the night sky outside. No hands or numbers, just planetary movements. “I think it’s broken.”

Scorpius finishes his sentence with a flourish, sets down his quill, and stretches indulgently. “The clock? It is moving. I’ve seen it move. Look, the stars are changing position.”

“But I thought Mars was supposed to be higher in the sky by now…” Albus frowns at it, tilting his head to one side.

Scorpius gives an impatient little sigh. “No, you’re thinking of Venus. Look, it’s right up there, next to the moon.” He pushes the sleeve of his jumper up and checks his own watch, the one he got from his dad for his 17th birthday. “It’s definitely right, Albus.”

Albus groans. “So why is it only halfway through the night, then? It feels like we’ve been here for ages already, but it’s only been a few hours. And it isn’t going fast enough.” He presses his hands to his forehead. “I have a headache, my coffee is gone, and it isn’t even half past three yet. This is a nightmare.”

Scorpius offers him the bag of Pepper Imps. “One of these will keep you going. Go on. In fact…” He picks one out of the bag and peers inside. “I’ll let you have the last one.”

Albus fishes it out and unwraps it. “I don’t think this will make the time go faster…”

“I don’t know,” Scorpius says. “Time flies when you’re having fun, and Pepper Imps are fun.” He tosses the sweet up in the air, catches it in his mouth, and they both immediately get distracted by the steam gushing from his ears.

*

_03:57_

Scorpius tilts his head back and examines the Jelly Slug. He’s dangling it almost over his head, so it catches the firelight and he can get a proper look at it. It wriggles and squirms, and a shimmering trail of sugary slime coats his fingers.

"Do you think they feel pain?" He asks. "Do you think it hurts when you eat them? Would it hurt less if you swallowed it in one?"

Albus groans and rubs his eyes. "I don't know, Scorpius. Why are you asking me?"

Scorpius looks at him. "I don't know. I should ask the slug, shouldn't I?" He raises his wand, apparently about to cast a Charm on it to make it talk.

Albus reached across and grabs hold of his arm. "Please don't. Just... eat the thing and stop thinking."

"Yeah, but I can't like, stop thinking. The whole point of this is to do work."

"So eat the slug and get on with it," Albus snaps.

"Ooo, someone's in a mood," Scorpius grins, swallowing the slug in one go.

"I'm tired.” Albus drags a hand through his hair. “Will you help me with this stupid Gemini- Geranium- Germinate-"

"Gemino Charm," Scorpius supplies helpfully.

"Yes, that. I can't make it work." He gives his wand another impatient flick in the direction of the coin he’s trying to duplicate. Nothing happens. “Maybe I should just snap my wand in half and go and live like a Muggle,” he says, shoving the coin away from him across the desk.

“And I thought I was supposed to be the drama queen,” Scorpius says, retrieving the coin before Albus can push it onto the floor. “Come here. It’s all in the wrist movement.”

*

_04:28_

The text of the Herbology book swims before Albus’s eyes, and he blinks rapidly. Across the table, Scorpius hides a yawn behind his hand.

“I think the coffee is wearing off,” Albus says, shaking his head to try and clear it.

Scorpius nods vaguely. “The sweets too. I’m not awake anymore. I’m here in spirit, but my brain is-” he stifles another yawn. “My brain is absent.”

Albus flops back in his chair and looks down at the stack of parchment in front of him. “I bet my dad never did this. This is stupid. Staying up all night.”

Scorpius tilts on his chair legs, swinging back and forth. “Albus, your dad had to save the world while sitting his O.W.L.s. I have no doubt he did this often. In fact, there’s recorded evidence that before the second task of the Triwizard Tournament he-”

Albus shakes his head. “No, you’re making it worse. Let’s not talk about my dad. Do you think your dad ever-”

“I try not to think about what my dad was doing when he was my age,” Scorpius says, rubbing his eyes and turning a page roughly enough that he almost tears the paper. “His extra-curricular activities aren’t exactly an inspiration to me.”

“Sorry,” Albus murmurs, looking down at his own book. His eyes feel like they’re full of sand. All gritty, and almost too heavy to keep open.

“Not your fault,” Scorpius replies. “Not your fault at all.” He stares absently down at the page he’s reading, then after a moment he shakes himself. “I think I’m going to do some spellwork. Defence Against the Dark Arts. Want to join me? A bit of a duel will wake us up.”

*

_05:18_

Scorpius flops his head down onto his book and folds his arms over his head. Albus glances across and watches him. For a minute Scorpius is entirely still, so Albus gets up and tiptoes across, hovering over him.

"Scorpius," he sing-songs.

Scorpius doesn't react.

Albus puts a hand on his back, and a grin spreads across his face. "Come on Scorpius. Wakey wakey."

Still nothing, so Albus walks his fingers up Scorpius's spine, like little spiders, and tickles the back of his neck.

Scorpius shrieks and his head flies up. His hair is everywhere, and his eyes are red and bleary. He bats Albus's hand away and glares at him. "Mean."

"You're not allowed to sleep, sweetheart."

"I was just resting my eyes," Scorpius mumbles, falling sideways until he's propped up by Albus's shoulder. Albus rubs his back and kisses the top of his head.

"I know, but you can't. Just a few more hours."

Scorpius groans and curls his fingers into Albus’s hoodie, holding onto him. "Explain that Golpalott thing to me again? I still don't get it."

Albus ruffles his hair. “Alright. Sit up then, sunshine.”

Scorpius obliges, and for the next half hour Albus uses a diorama of Jelly Slugs, Sugar Mice, and Pepper Imps to explain the divisions and combinations of ingredients in a way that their exhausted brains can comprehend.

*

_06:25_

“Is there any water?” Scorpius asks, voice raspy and exhausted.

Albus props his chin up on his hand and looks across at him, eyes half closed. “Don’t know.” He sounds almost as bad himself. “Are you nearly done with your Herbology notes?”

Scorpius flicks through them absently, not really counting them. Finally he shrugs. “I don’t know, but I feel sick.” He deflates, flopping down and leaning his forehead on the table.

Albus reaches across and strokes his hair. “I have an anti-nausea potion. Do you want a bit?”

Scorpius shakes his head, and exhaustedly pats Albus’s arm, possibly in thanks for the offer. “Just some water would be great.”

A thought strikes Albus, and he waves his wand and points it at his now empty coffee mug. “Aguamenti.” A gentle stream of water pours from the tip of his wand and fills the mug up almost to the brim. It’s perfect, clear, fresh water, and he hands it across to Scorpius. “Maybe the revision is paying off. I couldn’t do that earlier.”

“Good,” Scorpius mumbles vaguely. “That’s good.” He takes the mug and guzzles some of the water. It spills down his chin, and a bit splatters on his notes. Albus waves his wand to clear it away before it can cause too much damage, then casts a quick Impervius.

Scorpius blinks down at his notes in surprise, then looks up at Albus. “Thank you.”

*

_07:01_

The common room is full of sleepy stillness. The inky green murk is beginning to lighten, as somewhere overhead the sun crawls out from behind the mountains and spills down into the depths of the Black Lake.

Albus finishes his very last couple of notes, from the last page of his last book. He lifts his head and looks blearily around the room. Through the brightening gloom he can see Scorpius, curled up on one of the leather sofas with a blanket gathered around him. He’d managed to finish his notes a few minutes ago, and had gone to lie down because he was still feeling sick.

The table is covered in the detritus of their marathon study session. Sweet wrappers and screwed up bits of parchment litter the place, even spilling onto the floor, and stacks of books teeter precariously where they’ve been discarded. With a tired sweep of his wand, Albus tidies the mess away, dumping it all into his and Scorpius’s bags to sort out later, then he pads across to Scorpius, moving as quietly as he can.

Apparently he wasn’t quiet enough, because Scorpius stirs as he approaches, and opens his eyes.

“Albus?” he whispers. “What time is it?”

Albus crouches down in front of him. “Just gone seven. I didn’t mean to wake you, but I’m finished.”

Scorpius sits up and rubs his eyes. “I wasn’t sleeping. This sofa is too slippery for sleeping on. I feel like I’m going to slide off onto the floor if I move an inch.” He looks at Albus. “Do you think we could go to bed now?”

Albus nods. “I think that would be an excellent idea.”

“ _Thank you_ ,” Scorpius sighs in pure relief.

He slithers off the sofa, all tied up in his blanket. Albus helps him to free himself, then together they make their way upstairs to the dorm. They tiptoe across the room, careful to avoid the creaky floorboards, and both flop down on Scorpius’s bed. Albus supposes, as he curls up in Scorpius’s arms, that it wouldn’t have been so much extra effort to get into his own bed, but after a long day, and an even longer night, this is so much better.

Scorpius folds his arms tightly round Albus, and their knees bump together as they both wriggle into comfortable positions. Tired murmurs of apology pass between them as they move at the wrong moments or into the wrong places, until finally they lie still. Warm and tangled up together.

Pale green light chases the shadows of the dorm away into the corners. Their dorm-mates stir, and elsewhere the sound of people waking up and getting ready for breakfast starts to percolate through the walls and ceiling. The boys in the bed hear none of it. Bone-tired, brains overstuffed, they are both lost to the sort of dreamless, heavy sleep that only pure exhaustion can bring.


End file.
